The Missing
by xlightfromabovex
Summary: I look for a sign somewhere in the sky." When Genesis abandons ShinRa he leaves Sephiroth broken, yet it breaks him to leave as well. The two sides of the story... SephirothxGenesis, lyrics belong to Rise Against
1. The One Left Behind

"**Even then the saddest sounds were nothing laughter could not drown**

**But we are not laughing now.**

**I see your face in my sights**

**I hesitate**

**I look for a sign, somewhere in the sky…"**

**~ Rise Against, "Whereabouts Unknown"**

Empty.

That is the only way to describe him now; an empty shell, once so filled and overflowing with life and love – now shattered, broken, dead.

No, not dead; death would be better than this suspended existence. Every day is the same endless hell; he wakes – alone, never to the comforting warmth of the other's presence; he eats – the food tastes like ash in his mouth, ashes of his scorched heart; he works – without concentration, like a machine merely fulfilling its programmed actions.

Without even knowing where he could search, he cannot begin to look for the other, the missing part of his soul, and so has no choice but to endure the weightless helplessness of ignorance. He searches the skies every day, scouring the oppressive blue expanses for some kind of answer, some sign, some indication of how to move on or begin to assimilate his loss.

_Black feathers._

_They are scattered everywhere, on every surface of the room, floating through the air like burnt snowflakes. In the centre of the whirling objects sits the eye of the storm, blood streaming from his back, tears streaming from his eyes._

Outwardly he remains the same cold, emotionless being he always has been, though altered a little; maybe he is a little colder, slightly more distant – but, surely that is understandable from someone who has lost his best friend.

Only he and the other know that it is more than losing a mere friend.

Only they know how deep their bond ran; deeper than the deepest ocean, closer than their own skin. If they were in the same building, they knew the other was there; they knew every move the other would make, every breath, every word, and still they watched each other so closely that they could do nothing unnoticed.

_He rushes to the other's side, paths, questions, reassurances on his lips; he touches his hand to the other's face, tears warm on his fingers and in his own eyes. The feathers whirl and catch in his silver hair as the other shifts, trying to shy away from the touch._

No!

Don't touch…

_A monster?_

_No! _

He couldn't be!

_The wing flaring from the other's left shoulder flexes and folds in on itself as its owner tries to bring it under control, tries to push it back into his body._

Get rid of it!

_He can do nothing but try to stop the other from damaging himself even further. He prises the other's desperate fingers from the wing and then holds him as he collapses against his body, fresh tears of frustration and horror flowing from glowing eyes._

But now he has no idea how the other will act; he could never have predicted this, the audacity of not only stealing himself away but a sizeable part of their forces too. He had thought the other's allegiance ran deeper than that, but now, as the memories of that one day flash through his mind he knows that he should have guessed.

He wishes that the other had only told him, so he could have left too. 


	2. The One Who Left

"**So I bowed my head and I prayed for wings  
To take me from this place... from you  
I see myself inside you, you dream the dreams that I do,  
You're still searching for these answers, not inside your wrist…"**

**~Rise Against, "Heaven Knows"**

Chaos.

That is the only way to describe his mind now – once so capable, so calculating, now cast into darkness and despair. He does not even know who he is any more; the revelation of his creation and the hideous growth from his left shoulder have made his whole life a dense fabrication of lie upon lie.

They all knew, he could see it in their eyes; he only realises now what that cold glint had meant. He longs to rid the world of their existence, to feel the warm-cold satisfaction of his blade through their chests, to see the shock on their faces like the horror in his parents as he sent them to oblivion.

After all, they had known all along and had never said a single word. Did that not justify their righteous deaths?

_Black feathers._

_Agony. _

_He feels the warm stream of blood down his back, stemming from the burning rip in his shoulder like a fist had punched through the skin. The feathers float serenely through the air like there is nothing wrong, oblivious to the abomination huddled in their midst._

The worst part is not the monster he now knows himself to be, or the debilitating turmoil in his tortured mind – no, the worst part is that he knows the one who could begin to heal him.

But he left that one behind, along with the ruins of his life.

Along with the most part of his soul, his heart. If he looks back towards that place now, he can feel the pull of the other's presence, and it is so hard – _so _impossibly difficult – to stop himself returning, like a bird returning to roost with its mate after a migration to the other side of the world. If he is a magnet for the destruction of lives, then the other is the lodestone to which he will always turn back to for reprieve.

He cannot turn away.

_The door opens and the other enters in a rush, drawn by the pitiful sound of his agonised sobs and his earlier scream of terror. Through the veil of tears he sees shock and fear twist the other's perfect features momentarily before he is rushing towards him, falling to his knees beside him._

Don't come close!

_The other reaches out with a trembling hand for his face, tears of pity glistening in those burning cat-pupilled eyes. He feels the contact and the immense relief that stems from it, yet shies away._

Don't touch the monster!

I don't want to hurt you…

_No!_

_It can't be!_

_He shifts and tries to marshal the new muscles in the grotesque thing that sprouts from his back, struggling to bring it back inside him, to hide what he is in shame and disgust._

Get rid of it!

_When he cannot bring it back to his side, he reaches out with desperate fingers hooked into claws and tries to destroy the thing, to rip it away from himself. Fresh blood flows as he tugs at the feathers, fresh tears overflowing, fresh sobs wracking his body. Strong hands restrain his wrists, warm arms encircle him as he collapses against the other, hating himself for putting him in such danger and yet needing the embrace so much._

The decision was made then; there was no way he would stay and risk putting the other at such risk as loving a monster would put him in. He would leave and spend the rest of his empty life alone, so alone.

Such is the fate of a monster. 


End file.
